


Hearts in Darkness

by Neila_Nuruodo



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Brief Relationship, Coworkers to Lovers to Friends, Developing Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: Pashtarot may be the one to bring about the Seventh Rejoining - the Calamity of Darkness - but who better to assist him than one who knows precisely hownotto go about it?  But Igeyorhm's shattered-ice fragility, the wounds of the failure she takes entirely upon herself, become plain in time, awakening sympathy, and more.
Relationships: Pashtarot/Igeyorhm (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: August Novel Pairing Challenge 2020





	Hearts in Darkness

"Your concern is unnecessary. If you are truly so worried, should you not go once more to check upon the progress of our handiwork?"

Silence. A rustle of cloth, then the soft echoing reverberation that signaled reality tearing and mending once more. Pashtarot bared his teeth, and whether it was more snarl or grimace he could not say. Oh, it was undeniable that Igeyorhm was a help—knowledgeable and devoted, with direct hands-on experience in rejoining a shard aspected to Darkness.

Even if said experience lay largely in what  _ not _ to do.

A sigh burst from his lips, exasperation fading as he realized the source of her anxiety. After the debacle of the Void, he supposed he could hardly blame her for taking too much care with their work. He had confidence that his calculations and machinations would all go just as planned. She did not. But, he realized, as the last of his frustration faded, to be replaced by a faint and growing concern, her lack of confidence was not in  _ him. _

In fact, he should have seen it for what it was long ago. Her willingness—nay, it was at this point practically an insistence—to subordinate herself to others of the Convocation, to work at their direction… She no longer trusted her own judgment, her own capability. And yet, she would, he realized, blame herself should their shared rejoining go awry, even if the fault were entirely his.

She had not healed from the trauma of failure, of setting the Rejoining back by millennia in the Void’s creation. She both punished and sought to protect herself by working beneath others. But, he realized, his concern sharpening, it did not seem to help. Her self-confidence was not growing, not developing once more, even though she had more than once been instrumental to their efforts.

Damn him. How could he have failed to see this?

And his annoyance assuredly would not help the situation. With a sigh he acknowledged this fact, drawing the pain willingly into his breast. He would do well to bear this new revelation into all future dealings with her.

After all, the Rejoining demanded their utmost. With even one Convocation member not at the top of her game, any number of things could go awry. And as her nominal superior, he ought to see to it. Distracted by the turn of his thoughts, he sent himself after her, locking onto the dark beacon of her presence.

He emerged into chaos. Something had, it seemed, gone wrong after all; ice whipped into a razor-edged blizzard, a spiraling storm about Igeyorhm, pushing back a quartet of adventurers. Swallowing a curse, he reappeared before her, calling weapons to his hands—a sword and shield. The storm expanded, pushing outward to hold him within its eye as well, though Igeyorhm’s voice near chilled his bones in its stead when she spoke.

“I do not require your assistance with these meddlers.”

Glancing over the mortals now regrouping for another push, he supposed she was correct. Their determination burned brighter than their mortal flames ever could, visible wounds and slow movements plain testament to Igeyorhm’s skill at battle. Well, he was already here, and he had things he wished to say. Together they could defeat them more quickly.

“So I see.” Unable to keep a wry note from his voice, he chose to lean into it, to make it a taunt toward the adventurers. “In that case, let me shield you so you may turn your full power upon them.” Raising his shield, he wove magicks into a defensive array, like wings sweeping back to shelter Igeyorhm. With a “hmph” she dropped her own defenses, the storm suddenly  _ howling _ as its fury pitched up alongside Igeyorhm’s own. Icicles shattered and flew, hail swept down upon the faltering fighters, and the floor itself turned to a slippery trap beneath them. Realizing swiftly that they could not do any real harm to Igeyorhm through his protections they turned their attacks to him, but his shields held, and one by one they fell.

Stillness descended about them as the final assailant gasped his last, his weapon clanging onto the ground. With a shuddering breath, Pashtarot released the power, standing up a bit stiffly and shaking his sword to relimber his arm before sending the weapons away once more. A soft thud announced Igeyorhm lighting upon the ground once more, and he turned. Beneath the concealment of her mask she wore a scowl, annoyance writ plain in the twist of her lips, practically crystallizing in the air around her. He met the churlish expression with a bright smile.

“You were magnificent.”

The tight press of her lips fell to a soft surprised gape at his words. He laughed, hearty and bright.

“Truly, it is a pleasure to see you work. I daresay we make a good partnership.”

For a moment she was silent, seeming to mull over his words. “I suppose you are correct. It is… enjoyable… to simply cut loose.” Her mask rose, the eyeholes fixing upon him. “So what brings you to check up on me, then?”

“An apology.” He stepped closer, encouraged by her renewed surprise, one hand rising to gesture in self-effacing fashion. “I should not have been so short with you before. Especially as it seems you were correct to have concerns."

Her mien of suspicion, the faint tension to the corners of her lips, did not fade. "How thoughtful of you, then." She sighed. "Mayhap the issue would have self-corrected without my interference. After our exchange I deemed it a risk not worth taking."

“Mayhap,” he agreed. “Or mayhap not. Either way, it seems your instincts are better than my own. I shall have to pay them greater heed in the future.”

Finally she thawed, a small smile turning her lips up. “I would maintain you have no need to apologize. But… I thank you nonetheless.”

His heart eased at her words, her words and the brightening of her entire aspect. “Rather than debate the matter, might I suggest we instead investigate the possibility of further disturbance to our plans in, say, the vicinity of the great glaciers of the south?”

Her head tipped, betraying faint perplexity. “I am aware of no issues in that area.”

“Nor am I,” he grinned, “but the view is supposed to be spectacular. Where better to look out for any such concerns, hmm?”

Her smile broadened. “I see. Well, then, we had best be off.” She held out an imperious hand for him. Still smiling brightly, he took it, and a moment later darkness whisked them away to their destination.

* * *

“Allow me to express my personal congratulations on achieving the Seventh’s Rejoining. Never did I doubt you, and now all know your capability.”

Pashtarot turned at the sound of Igeyorhm’s voice. She wore no mask, still bare-faced from the celebration and ceremony. A quick glance about showed them sufficiently isolated; he stepped close, gathering her into his arms.

“Thank you—as always—for your kind words. But it would be remiss of me not to acknowledge your own part in the Seventh’s Rejoining. Your assistance and knowledge was invaluable. You deserve equal credit in the endeavor.”

As always she waved off his encouragement, and despite his disappointment at her continued disavowal he could not help but treasure the faint pink, for once visible, upon her cheeks. She changed the subject, seeming eager to move on.

“I understand you now seek a posting on the Source?”

“Just so. I caught wind of a rather ambitious primal project—one aspected to dark, no less. How could I pass up the opportunity?”

She smiled, her hands rising to cup his own maskless face, coaxing him down for a kiss. He sighed softly at the feel of her, the faint mint bite of her lip gloss. For a long moment they clung sweetly together. Even knowing this dalliance was likely at its end, neither seemed eager to hasten the goodbye. It was Igeyorhm who drew back first, still smiling.

“I have every faith that you will do wonderfully. And should you ever desire my advice, you have but to seek me out. I will always have time for you.”

“Thank you. And what will you do? I hear tell as well of an ice-aspected primal’s inception, an ambitious project. Will you try your hand at this, perhaps?”

She sighed. “I know you wish to see me spread my wings. Indeed, your encouragement has given me confidence I believed I would never again find. But I am not yet ready. Someday… yes. Someday, and perhaps soon, I shall venture on my own. But for now I will continue to work under others.” She smiled once more, pressing her fingertips over his lips. “Oh, do not frown so. You are more handsome smiling than stern, dear Pashtarot. Let me fledge at my own rate.”

At that he was the one to sigh. “You are, of course, correct. Would that you could see yourself through my eyes.” Unbidden, a smile rose to his face, accompanied by a thought. “See, then, that you learn to view yourself as those you work with do, and you shall have all the confidence you need.” He bent to lay one last peck upon her lips and released her. “There is no need to hasten on just yet to my next assignment. Shall we rejoin the celebration?”

With a grin she seized his hand, pulling him back toward the group. “Let’s shall.”


End file.
